Next time, I’ll just run a tab

My feeble attempt at the Run A Tab three-mile course was something akin to a first round knock out. Appropriately, the meeting place on Friday was Ringside Sports Bar, an establishment that serves beer in scooners, suggests a lodge with its taxidermy animal heads and is a stone’s throw from Sunset Station.

I had been wishy-washy in regards to my level of participation. In short, I’ve never been a runner. A former tennis junkie, I haven’t been athletic in years.

I decided to arrive at the meet, interview participants, then my out-of-shape butt would stay behind and walk to whatever First Friday activity I was going to do, which I hadn’t yet decided.

But something happened. Not sure if it was the collective voice of every journalism teacher I’ve ever had, or what, but something told me to run with them. “Don’t half-ass the story,” the voice said. After all, I had shown up in shorts, just in case. I took the advice. Bad move.

…

In Run A Tab, runners do a kind of pub crawl, except they don’t walk (or crawl)  they run from bar to bar. They meet at Ringside, 1161 E. Commerce St., every First Friday, usually around 6:30 p.m. Some get there early.

I got there at 6:30 on the dot and the place was packed, mostly with the Run A Tab crowd dressed in appropriate running gear. In terms of age, it’s definitely a younger crowd, but not too young  maybe late 20s, early 30s. There are students, professionals and the occasional out-of-towners who learn of the run through its Web site.

From Ringside, the group runs to the Alamo for a group picture. From the Alamo, it’s across the street to Pat O’Brien’s. Other stops include V Bar, Leapin Lizards Pub, First Friday, and it all culminates at Drink, 200 Navarro St., the wine bar where the idea for the run started.

As for the obvious question, Greg Wattis, a Run A Tab virgin who was waiting for friends to arrive, said he enjoys drinking and running, so “why not combine two activities into one?”

Co-organizer Steven Soto said most people Run A Tab for the social interaction rather than anything having to do with the cardiovascular system. “It’s a very good way to meet people,” Soto said. When you think about it, it’s the perfect way to meet people.

Everybody says  and this is a notion I don’t agree with  the girl you bring home to mom isn’t hanging out at bars. Dating Web sites, services and meet ups aside, where, then, do you find quality date material? Church? The library? Super Target?

Run A Tab weaves the bar scene with an activity that’s good for you.

From a dude’s perspective, these are hot women. These are, after all, runners with runner physiques, athletic types, made only more desirable by the whole sweaty, no makeup, natural beauty thing. Short running shorts. Lycra sports bras. Some in striped knee-high socks. Some in ankle socks. Most wear their hair in pony tails which act as exclamation points to the overall look. They are masters of looking good while running. And the guys are doing the same thing.

It’s when they all congregate in the bar where you see the genius of the whole thing. Most drink beer. There is some cocktail consumption, and I may have seen a michelada.

They spend anywhere from 20 to 45 minutes at each bar, according to Soto, “The bigger the group, the harder it is to get a drink.” Roughly 85 percent of the starting group completes the course, which begins at 6:30 and ends at Drink around 10:30.

Having never ran on a belly full of beer, I had to ask: What does your stomach feel like?

“It’s not as hard as it seems,” Soto said. “You kind of pace yourself. You drink what you can when you can. We’re not forcing you to drink. If your body’s dehydrated, don’t have another beer.”

…

There they go.

It’s 7 p.m. and Edgar Gonzalez makes the announcement to gather on the sidewalk for the rules. The first rule of Run A Tab: You don’t talk about Run A Tab. Just kidding.

“Have fun and be responsible, for the most part,” Gonzalez tells the group. “No hanging from the chandeliers.” That actually happened once, which is why Lucca (the restaurant/bar at the Fairmont Hotel) has been removed as one of the stops.

After some announcements, Gonzalez pretends to begin group stretching before taking off on his own. Like an idiot, I began stretching. I’m so out of shape, it wouldn’t have mattered.

The group runs down East Commerce Street. I want to stay in the back of the pack mainly because I don’t want to become an obstacle. There are three women, clearly friends, who are next to me. They seem like novice runners. I go ahead of them.

At the Cameo Theater, my shins start to burn (for those not familiar, Cameo Theater is on the same block as Ringside). I’m wearing New Balance sneakers purchased in the ’90s. One block and I’m still with the group. Staying grouped is essential at some intersections. Traffic tends to halt for the group. At the first intersection just before the bridge, the traffic exiting and entering U.S. 281 makes it treacherous.

I’m under the bridge and the burning in my shins intensifies. My feet are feeling wobbly. My throat is drying up. A distance is starting to form between me and the group.

One of the runners stops for a rear-view picture of the group. I pass him. When he’s done taking the photo, he zips past me and rejoins the group. It’s like he was dancing around me. I think he took the picture while running in place, which doesn’t make any sense, I know, but it’s all about keeping the heart going.

At Denny’s, my body begins to shut down. Sports commercial slogans begin crawling through my mind. Just Do It. Obey Your Thirst. Do the Dew. What is G? Appropriately, it then went into a whole beer commercial tangent. I started thinking about the guy that got launched out the window for suggesting the company “stop buying Bud Light for every meeting.” I was certain my heart was about to do the same thing through my chest.

Those slogans got me across Bowie Street. I think a Ford Taurus almost hit me. I bent over in front of the Marriott in the classic palms-firmly-planted-on-knees position. Forget the lungs, I nearly hacked up all of my internal organs. I was debating whether to meet the group at Pat O’Brien’s. I was so embarrassed, I decided not to.

The three novices ran past me. Ten count not necessary. I was done.

Click here for a previous post on how Run A Tab got started. The run celebrates its one-year anniversary next month.